


Coffee, Motorcycles, and Sarcasm

by anarchychaos



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coffee Shops, M/M, Mentions of War, Motorcycles, Panic Attacks, Steve is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 04:14:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10506144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchychaos/pseuds/anarchychaos
Summary: Bucky sighed, looking at his cup. Damn Starbucks. They had gotten his order entirely right, but for some reason, the barista had decided that ‘Bucky’ translated to ‘Ucky’.





	

Bucky sighed, looking at his cup. Damn Starbucks. They had gotten his order entirely right, but for some reason, the barista had decided that ‘Bucky’ translated to ‘Ucky’. He sighed again, and started walking down the block towards his job. Bucky worked on custom-made motorcycles, and he loved it. Sometimes he fixed or adjusted the bikes, other times he got to do the entire customization himself, even design them. 

Before, he had worked at this garage called Hydra, but then he was given a special offer from S.H.I.E.L.D., which he took immediately. He had hated working at Hydra, especially in his specific area, the Red Room. That was where all the irreparable stuff was sent, and his bosses always blamed Bucky when he couldn’t fix it.

He walked into S.H.I.E.L.D., and was greeted by a joyous Thor, and a grumpy Loki. Thor had come a few months before Bucky, and had gotten Loki, his adopted brother, a job shortly after Bucky joined. Bucky waved to them, and Thor waved back from where he was showing Loki how to properly use a soldering iron.

As Clint walked past Bucky, he pulled his coffee out of his hands, and took a giant sip, before looking at the name. “Ucky?!” He asked incredulously, and Bucky snatched the cup out of his hands, grumbling. 

“I got an asshole barista,” Bucky said, taking another gulp before handing the cup to Clint, allowing him to finish it off. As Bucky walked away, he saw Clint pull his phone out, and snap a picture of the offending cup. 

Bucky rolled his eyes, and headed to his station, ready to work.

******

The next day, he headed to the same Starbucks, ordered the exact same drink, and got the exact same result. Only this time he realized that the tiny barista that took his order grinning slightly to himself as he wrote the name ‘Lucky’ on the cup, before adding it to the slew of things waiting to be made.

Again, Clint laughed, and took a picture.

*******

The next day, Bucky was ‘Sucky’, then ‘Yucky’, then ‘Bummy’, then ‘Stucky’. After ‘Stucky’, Bucky decided he had had enough. He rode to work that day, stopping at a drive through Starbucks instead, and parking his bike in the employee garage. Then, after work, he headed to the Starbucks that kept messing up his name. 

As he was walking in, he saw the barista that was always messing up his name take one look at him, and duck into the back of the shop. Bucky approached the cashier. “Can I get you anything today?” the redhead asked, with a slightly scary look on her face.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Bucky said, plan going through the window. He ordered a drink, and sat down, playing around on his phone. So what if his barista kept messing his name up? It wasn’t such a big deal, Bucky could deal. The only real issue with it was the merciless teasing from Clint. He could handle it. Right? Right.

“Alright, Tasha, I’m heading out!” Called the same barista that had been hiding in the back. Bucky slouched a little, as the redhead grabbed the guy by the back of the collar, talking to him quietly. Bucky saw the guy wince at least once. 

Then, he threw down his apron, and walked out from behind the counter, scowling all the while. He walked over to Bucky’s table, with a paper cup in hand. “Here you are,” he said, plopping the cup on the table, and brushing his blonde bangs out of his face.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, smiling as warmly as he could. This guy must really hate him. He took a couple sips from his coffee, savoring it’s warmth. 

The tiny little blonde stomped out of the Starbucks, and Bucky looked down at his cup, checking his name. Sure enough, it read ‘Bucky’. Made sense, since the redhead (Tasha?) had been the one to make his drink. Bucky stood up, and waved a thank you to her, before walking out of the store, and back towards his bike. 

*******

“Wait, seriously?” Clint asked incredulously, laughing at Bucky over a pizza box. “You’ve decided to stop going to the Starbucks that keeps messing up your name? Dude, what are you, five?”

Bucky slouched down in his seat, grumbling. “Like you can be talking,” He said, sneaking a piece of extra-cheesy pizza down to Clint’s dog for good measure.

“Seriously, it’s just a name! Your name’s weird, people are gonna mess it up! And stop feeding my dog pizza, he gets all gassy when he eats cheese,”

“That’s kinda the point,” Bucky said, but he stopped anyways.

“So, just go back to that same place. Or, better yet, make your coffee at home! It’d probably save you a ton of money.”

Bucky just shrugged, preferring to not reveal his secret love of pumpkin spice lattes.

Clint rolled his eyes, laughing to himself.

*******

Bucky kept going to Starbucks. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just some random (kinda cute) guy who kept getting his name wrong.

Then, one morning, Bucky walked in feeling (and possibly looking) like he was about to drop dead. He had stayed late at the garage last night, working on perfecting this girls bike, only to head home and stay wide awake for the next three hours. When his alarm clock went off the morning, he had seriously considered throwing it out the window, and sleeping for six more hours.

“Hey,” said the guy Bucky had begun calling Asshole Barista in his head. Bucky just nodded tiredly.

“Let me guess,” the guy said, looking slightly concerned “You want as much caffeine as possible?”

Bucky nodded again, pulling out his wallet. “How much?” he asked, beginning to pull out his card.

Asshole Barista waved his hand away, and began grabbing a cup “It’s on the house today,”

“Thanks,” Bucky said, watching the tiny guy go back and forth behind the corner.

“Here you go,” The guy handed him his cup, and turned to help the next customer.

Bucky grabbed it, took a huge sip, and walked out, heading towards the garage.

When he got there, Clint glanced at him, then his cup, and broke out into a huge smile. “They got your name right!”

“Huh?” Said Bucky, looking down at his cup. Sure enough, it read ‘Bucky’, in crisp, neat handwriting. “Oh. I guess he did,”

Clint laughed, and walked off, leaving Bucky to make his way to his corner, where the torturous bike awaited him.

*******

After work, Clint called him over, pulling him away from the door. “Hey, we're all heading to coffee right now. You're coming, right?”

Bucky nodded, shrugging on his coat. “Where we going?”

“I figured we would just go to that Starbucks you seem to frequent. Maybe rough up the guy who keeps messing up you name,” Clint was obviously joking, but the idea of somebody going after his barista made his heart sputter. 

“I doubt he’d put up much of a fight. Guy’s skinny as a twig.”

Sam walked out from the very back of the shop, wiping his hands on a rag, with Peggy following close behind. Peggy co-owned the shop along with Nick Fury, and was actually the first mechanic to work there, while Fury was the one who worked the counter and keep everything in order. Clint often joked that Peggy was their own Rosie the Riveter, and Bucky had to agree.

“Alright, James, lead the way,” Peggy called, winking at him. She was the only person (other than his mom) that Bucky allowed to call him James.

Bucky lead the way to the Starbucks, joking and laughing the whole way. As the stepped in, Sam told them to all grab a seat, while he headed up to talk to the barista, promising them ‘the best drink in the history of the world’

“Is that the dude?” Clint asked, pointed to the tiny blond barista who was happily joking with Sam.

Bucky nodded, and Clint snorted. “I told you he was tiny!” Bucky exclaimed, shoving Clint a little.

Suddenly, Peggy sat up extremely straight, and craned her neck, looking over to the baristas. 

“What is it?” Bucky asked, before looking to where Peggy was. The redhead was out from behind the counter, talking to Sam and the tiny barista.

Peggy elbowed Bucky, glowering slightly “Why didn’t you tell me that his co-worker was hot?” She demanded, looking equal parts pissed off and excited.

“Uh. I...forgot?” Bucky said, shrugging slightly. He had to agree with Peggy, but he hadn’t noticed the last few times he had been here. 

Peggy rolled her eyes, and looked up at Sam as he walked over, carrying three coffee cups, with the tiny blonde guy following, carrying the last two.

“Alright, guys,” Sam said as he started handing cups out “These are the most amazing things in the world,”

Bucky accepted his from the barista with a smile, and took a sip, before his eyes widened, and he took another huge gulp. “What __is__ this?” 

“An original creation, made by my main man Steve here,” Sam proudly clapped the tiny barista-Steve-on the back. Steve started blushing. Bucky’s heart fluttered.

“Dude, this is amazing!” Clint cried, holding his drink protectively.

“Thanks,” Steve pulled over a chair, and sat down next to Bucky. Sam looked like he was trying to keep from laughing. 

“So, Steve,” Peggy leaned over the table, and motioned towards the second barista, who was preparing a drink for a mother and her two kids. “Is your friend single?”

“Natasha?” Steve said, looking over to where the lady in question stood. He looked back at Peggy and grinned. “Go for it,”

Peggy grabbed her coffee, jumped up, and went over to chat up Natasha.

“I am willing to bet twenty bucks that Peggy is going to use her ‘you looked lonely’ pick-up line,” Bucky proclaimed, sitting back a bit.

Clint scoffed. “Sure, Bucky. I think she’ll just go right in. Start with ‘can I have your number’ and end with a time and a place,”

Bucky held out his hand, and they shook on it. Seconds later, Peggy returned, a piece of paper in hand. “We're going to dinner tomorrow night,” She grinned, and took another sip of coffee.

“What pickup line did you use?” Bucky asked, glancing at Clint.

“I told her she looked a little lonely,” Peggy hid her smile behind her coffee cup, her eyes flicking between the two of them.

Clint cursed and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, before handing it to Bucky, who made a show of taking it and placing it in his wallet.

Steve laughed, and, on impulse, Bucky winked at him. Steve turned pink, and looked like he wanted to say something, before Natasha called to him. “Steve, come clock out, your shifts up!”

Steve jumped up, and headed behind the counter, appearing a few minutes later, wearing a beanie, dark grey skinny jeans, black combat boots, and a red and black flannel, topped off with a pair of thick-rimmed square glasses.

“Alright,” Clint stood up, as if he were making an announcement. “It is friday night, and we are all hanging out in a coffee shop. I vote that we go out while we still can. Natasha and Steve, you are most welcome, but I know that I, for one, am going somewhere. No offense, by the way, to your humble coffee shop,”

Steve just nodded, and leaned over to Bucky. “Is he always like that?”

Bucky cringed a little “Yeah. He gets worse when he’s drunk, however,”

Steve laughed, and Bucky couldn’t help but grin himself.

“I’m in,” Natasha said, “If you guys are willing to wait 15 minutes for the shift change. I can’t leave until then,”

Everyone agreed, and joked around until a couple of kids showed up. One had on glasses, and was carrying an expensive looking camera, while the other was wearing a baseball cap low on his head. Bucky noticed that wherever his skin was exposed, it looked pretty scarred. Bucky could relate.

“Hey, Peter, Wade,” Natasha said, pulling off her apron, and heading to the back to clock out. She returned wearing a pair of skinny jeans that made Peggy blush.

Peter started mulling around behind the counter, while Wade, the scarred one, plopped down into a seat and pulled out his phone. 

“Alright guys, you ready?” Bucky said, standing up, grabbing his coat and pushing in his chair.

“After you, James,” Peggy said, poking him in the side.

At the sound of Bucky’s name, Wade looked up. “Holy shit,” he muttered before standing up and looking at Bucky. “Sergeant James Barnes?” he asked, before hurriedly saluting.

Bucky saluted back, and the kid let his posture relax, before rushing over and shaking Bucky’s hand. “I’m sorry sir, it’s just-you saved my life,”

Bucky froze. He remembered this kid. He had pulled him out of a burning vehicle in Iraq three years ago, right before he had been discharged due to some pretty extreme burns himself.

“Wade,” Natasha muttered in warning, causing Bucky to jump out of his stupor.

“No, it’s okay. How are you, Private?”

“I’m good, sir. It was a little bumpy at first, but I’m good now,” The kid smiled brightly, and Bucky felt guilty that he hadn’t been able to get him out sooner.

“How is your recovery going?”

“I’m almost done with my physical therapy, I have about two more months left. I’ve got a boyfriend, a job. It’s all working out a lot better than I thought it would,”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come visit you while you were recovering, I-”

“They told me that you had gotten burned as well. I understand completely. Just-thank you.”

Bucky shook Wade’s hand again, before following his friends out the door. He had always wondered what had happened to Wade. He was glad that it all worked out.

“Alright,” Clint said, attempting to lighten the mood. “Where are we going?”

Nobody was really in the mood for drinks anymore, so they were debating whether or not to go get food, or go see a movie, when Natasha piped up.

“We should go to Aunt May’s!”

“Oooh, yes!” Steve called, brightening up immediately.

“What’s that?” Peggy asked, standing next to Natasha.

“It’s owned by Wade, and Peter’s Aunt May, it actually has the best food in the world,”

Bucky shrugged “Sounds good to me,”

The group agreed, and Steve began to lead the way.

“So, how do you know Sam?” Bucky asked, looking down at Steve.

“Oh, we were roommates during college. We kind of lost touch, until I moved back to Brooklyn a couple of years ago,”

“Nice,”

Steve nodded, and then looked up to Bucky. “I’m assuming that you know all of them from work?”

Bucky shrugged “Kinda. Clint and I worked in the special forces together, and Fury was one of our superiors. We were all discharged around the same time. Actually, it was because of the same accident. An IED went off, and Wade was in the car when it happened, I went in to get him out, but Clint and Fury were so close that shrapnel hit Fury in the eye, and it knocked out Clint’s hearing,”

“Jesus. And Fury is the guy who owns the garage?”

“Yeah. Him and Peggy own it together. She was actually the first mechanic, and Fury was the one who kept everything organized,”

“Wow. The fact that you were all able to get back on your feet is astounding.”

Bucky shrugged “We didn’t really have any other option,”

They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Bucky turned to Steve.

“What about you?”

Steve looked up, confused. “Me?”

“What’s your story?”

“Oh jeez. I don’t really have much of one. My mother is an irish immigrant, she came to the U.S. when she was about twenty. She met my father, and moved to Brooklyn. Dad died a little while after I was born, and I was in the hospital a lot. I wasn’t the healthiest kid. Still not, I guess. Anyways, I was inside so much that I didn’t have anything to do. I mostly drew. Went to college, got an art degree, and now I’m working at a Starbucks. Not the best story,” Steve shrugged, and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Well, neither was mine, but I’m doing just fine. I’m sure everything’ll come around,” Bucky bumped Steve’s shoulder, and Steve glanced up, smiling again.

Steve stopped, and motioned to the small restaurant on the corner. “Here we are,”

Bucky grabbed the door, and held it open as his friends filed in, everybody vying for a seat where they could people watch. Bucky headed in, and turned to see Steve chatting up and nice-looking old lady behind the counter.

Steve walked back over, and plopped down next to Bucky, their legs brushing together. Steve was laughing and joking, and when he glanced over to Bucky, his eyes bright and his smile wide, there was nothing Bucky wanted more than to grab Steve’s chin, and push Steve’s lips against his own.

*******

Over the next few months, Steve and Bucky found themselves spending more and more time together. Sometimes with their friends, sometimes not. Steve would draw, an Bucky would read, and it would feel like they had known each other their entire lives.

Then, one night, Bucky couldn’t sleep. Sounds of war kept playing over and over in his head, explosions and gunfire kept playing over and over in his head, and young Wade Wilson’s cries as Bucky dragged him out of the burning car, his own arms going up in flames.

He sat up, shivering in a cold sweat, and pulled out his phone. He hit the first number on his contact list, not bothering to check who it was, just calling someone, anyone, just to hear another person’s voice.

“Bucky?” Steve voice answered, piercing through the phantom sounds playing in Bucky’s head.

“Steve,” He breathed, almost collapsing with relief.

“Bucky?” Steve said again, sounding panicked. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t know,”

“I’m coming over,” Bucky could hear Steve getting up, his clothes shifting, and keys jangling. “I can be there in ten minutes walking, or in two on my bike. If I go on my bike, I have to hang up. Do you need me to keep talking, or do you want me to just come as fast as I can?”

“Faster.” Bucky said, breathing hard.

“Okay. I’m going to hang up now, okay?”

Bucky hung up, and threw his phone off the bed, curling in upon himself, shaking so hard it felt like he was vibrating.

He hear his door open, and he froze. He hear a quiet voice call out. “Bucky?”

__Steve__. Bucky took a breath, and just started sobbing.

All of sudden, Steve was in his bed, holding him, stroking his hair. “I’m here, Buck. You’re safe. Just let it out,”

Bucky felt a surge of panic, and tried to push Steve away, fighting weakly to hide himself “Steve-my scars-”

“Are they hurting?” Steve asked, pulling back a little, and looking him in the eye.

Bucky shook his head, and Steve just nodded, and pulled Bucky back towards him, whispering in his ear, pulling the covers up, and slowly calming Bucky down, lulling him to sleep.

*******

The next morning, Bucky woke to the sound of his coffee maker, and the smell of bacon.

He sat up quickly, wondering who could be in his home, before he remembered the events from the night before.

He cursed, and stood up, throwing on a shirt and sweatpants, before heading out to apologise to Steve.

When he walked out, Steve looked up, and dished some eggs and hashbrowns out onto a plate, before setting it on the table and pointing to it. “Eat,” he said, placing a cup of coffee onto the table, and grabbing his own breakfast.

“Listen, Steve, I’m sorry,” Bucky said, collapsing miserably into a chair, watching Steve as he moved about the kitchen.

Steve froze, and looked at him. “What are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry I called you. I didn’t mean to bug you, I panicked, and-”

“Stop. You should not be apologizing for calling me. In fact, you should be apologising for waiting that long to call me,”

Bucky paused. “What?”

“Why did you wait so long to call me?” Steve sat down, looking worried and earnest.

“What do you mean?”

“Bucky. You were in the middle of a panic attack when you called me. I known how that shit works, it just builds up until you break down. I’m asking why you didn’t call me during the buildup,”

Bucky just shrugged, poking at his eggs.

Steve sat back. “I don’t have work today. I can stay here if you need me to,”

“I don’t __need__ you to, persay,” Bucky looked up slyly.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Alright. I’m assuming you do __want__ me here, though,”

Bucky smiled and took a bite of his eggs, eyes widening.

“Dude. These are amazing,” 

Steve blushed, and Bucky smirked a little “Thank you,” Steve said, head bent.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, before Bucky stood up, and grabbed his and Steve’s plates, heading over to the sink to clean them off.

Steve following him, handing him the coffee mugs and then jumping up to sit on the counter.

“So, do you wanna do something today? Or do you just feel like staying in?”

“I dunno. Do you have any plans?”

“Not really. I might be hearing back from the art gallery later, but that’s it,”

“Art gallery?” Bucky asked, turning around, and leaning against the counter.

“Yeah. There was a notice up, asking for local artists to submit stuff, so I figured that I would see if they were interested in anything I’d done. I probably won’t hear back, but it’s worth a shot,”

“Well, cool!” 

Steve shrugged, and glanced up, smiling warmly. “You wanna just stay in? I don’t really feel like going anywhere,”

Bucky nodded, and looked down at Steve. “Oh! I just remembered! You left you sketchbook here a couple of days ago, let me go grab it,”

Bucky walked back to his room, and picked the heavy sketchbook up off his bedside table. It must have been full of drawings, sketches, whatever. There were bits of paper sticking out in every which way, and the sturdy leather binding was fraying.

He walked back out, and handed it to Steve, smiling warmly. Steve took it carefully, and held it on both hands.

“Thanks,” He looked up at Bucky suspiciously “You didn’t look through it, did you?” 

Bucky shook his head, and plopped down on the couch, motioning for Steve to do the same.

*******

The sat around for the rest of the day, Steve sketching a drawing, sometimes showing Bucky what he was working on, sometimes hiding it aggressively.

Bucky ordered a pizza for lunch, and was about to asked Steve what he wanted for dinner, when Steve got a phone call from the art gallery. Steve got up, and headed into Bucky’s room, closing the door to block out the sound from the tv.

Bucky turned down the sound a little, but kept watching, paying close attention to the nature documentary. Eventually, Steve walked out, and BUcky heard him close the door behind him.

“How’d it go?” Bucky asked, still watching the tv. When Steve didn’t answer, Bucky turned off the tv and twisted around, looking at Steve.

Steve was just...standing there, not moving, staring off into space.

Concerned, Bucky jumped up, and went to grip Steve arms, trying to get him to look up at him. “Steve? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Steve looked up, staring at Bucky for a few seconds, before his face broke out into a wild grin.”They liked my stuff!”

“What?” Bucky asked, relieved that Steve was okay, but confused at the same time.

“The art gallery! They told me that they wanted me to be part of a permanent exhibit there!”

“Oh. Oh! Oh my god Steve, that’s amazing!” Bucky exclaimed, watching Steve’s eyes dance with happiness.

Then, Steve grabbed Bucky’s shirt, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Bucky drew back, surprised, before smiling, and leaning back, pulling Steve back in.

*******

Two years later, Bucky was standing in Steve’s art gallery, with his palms sweating. Steve’s paintings had become so successful, that the business had sold the whole place to him, and moved across the city.

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand, and pulled him across the room, showing him some of the latest new artworks, even though Bucky was the one who helped him pick them out.

“Steve,” Bucky murmured, pulling him back in front of him.

“Yeah?” Steve asked looking up at him.

Bucky reached into his pocket, and began to bend down to one knee.


End file.
